


across the great divide

by SadieFlood



Category: Book Club (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 13:32:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19230133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadieFlood/pseuds/SadieFlood
Summary: Vivian and Diane find themselves alone, together.





	across the great divide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tablelamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/gifts).



Vivian doesn't need anyone.

That much is obvious, and has been for almost the entirety of her adult life.

But she likes having someone around, a body on the other side of the bed, until she doesn't.

Arthur was supposed to be the one to break the trend, the one who was worth uprooting her entire way of life, the one she _loved_.

Maybe he had been. The problem wasn't him, exactly. As always, it was the way her teeth eventually set on edge when he spoke; even something as innocuous as blandly reading headlines at her in the morning propelled her out the door, making excuses not to be around.

He grew tired of being left alone. She grew tired of _not_ being left alone. Their parting was amicable; their romance was a nice idea that was never going to work.

Arthur was supposed to be the exception, but _she_ is the rule, and she's too old to change now.

Oh, well.

Back to work.

And when she starts missing that weight on the mattress, or worse, the warm touch of a new, fervent lover, she tries to go back to sleep.

At dawn, she's still trying.

"Forget it," she mutters at the ceiling.

Might as well start the day.

*

The meeting fizzles out early; everyone's more interested in the wine and snacks Diane set out than the book, which was a dud. There's a reason they try not to let Sharon pick very often.

When Vivian offers to stick around and help her clean up after the others, she's so surprised that she can't even find the words to demur. Instead she says, "Well, sure, I'd like that."

It was the right response, she thinks, as Vivian visibly relaxes. At the end of a long day, her expertly-applied concealer has mostly settled into the creases beneath her eyes, revealing the dark circles she'd tried to cover.

She's probably still upset about Arthur. Diane wraps a plate of store-bought hors d'oeuvres in plastic and sets it in the refrigerator. She hopes Vivian won't bring up Mitchell, and offers her more wine as a distraction.

It works. Vivian takes the rest of the bottle back to the living room, leaving Diane to finish cleaning. She takes her time, delaying the inevitable.

"So what went wrong?" Vivian asks almost the second she returns to the living room.

"You'll have to be more specific," Diane says.

If Vivian was less tired, she'd probably have a cutting remark at the ready, but she says, "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it."

If Vivian was less tired, or less drunk on wine, she wouldn't tell the truth: that she'd come to realize that she could have love without sex (Harry) or sex without love (Mitchell), but not both. And, well, she preferred the former.

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." To Diane's surprise, she doesn't sound like she's joking; she sounds like she's on the verge of tears.

"Well, I don't mind being alone," she says, hoping that will comfort Vivian, somehow.

Vivian lets out a harsh chuckle. "You _should_ mind it. Normal people would mind. At least that's what I've been told."

She doesn't know what to say.

"Sometimes even _I_ mind it, if you want to know the truth," she says, lowering her voice as if someone might overhear.

Diane settles back in her chair and puts her feet up on the coffee table. "Well, it's a good thing we're not alone, then."

"That's very nice," Vivian says, "but that's not what I meant."

She closes her eyes. "Hey, if it's gotta be one or the other, this works for me."

"God, he must have been a _really_ bad lay."

"That definitely wasn't the problem." She pauses. "I mean, I liked sleeping with him. I just didn't like talking to him."

"Trust me," Vivian says. "If he'd been that good, you'd miss it."

"Do you miss Arthur?"

She sighs. "No. But I miss _someone_. Any warm body would do. Isn't that awful?"

"For him, I guess," Diane says, eyes still closed. "But we're too old to do anything we don't want to do."

"What about what we _want_ to do?"

"It's a tradeoff, like everything else," she says.

When there's no reply, she opens her eyes. Vivian is slumped forward, lips slightly parted.

She carefully maneuvers her unexpected guest into a more comfortable position and turns off the lights before heading to her own empty bed.

At least Vivian won't remember their conversation in the morning.

*

Vivian wakes up with a start.

The mild but still very perceptible throbbing in her temples brings the whole evening back to her in a rush. That's right; she fell asleep on Diane's couch after getting tipsy and maudlin, a terrible combination.

And here she is, with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over the rest of her.

Diane really could be an angel, sometimes.

She'd been so patient, letting Vivian ramble about Arthur--and accidentally make a less-than-kind remark or two. Typical.

She makes a mental note to apologize.

Instead, after she's made herself reasonably presentable in the guest bathroom, she suggests breakfast. Her treat.

Not quite an apology, but she'd like to think it's close enough.

Breakfast is fun, and the company is nice; Diane must agree, because she suggests a movie the next night. Her treat.

The following week, they meet up for a poetry reading, which turns out to be dreadful, but they go out for drinks afterward, and that redeems the evening, in Vivian's opinion.

A few days later, they end up at one of those ridiculous wine-and-painting classes.

The next week, they go to dinner at a new restaurant. After the check is paid and they've put on their coats, Vivian places her hand at the small of Diane's back, ostensibly as a suggestion that she move a little faster; however, it's been so long since she touched another person on purpose, she can't help but linger for just a second longer than strictly necessary.

Diane gets the message, apparently, and walks at top speed the rest of the way. Her goodbye is weirdly clipped, too, and there's no promise of another outing.

Did Diane think she was hitting on her?

Was she?

No to both questions, she decides, and heads home.

But when Diane doesn't answer her phone for the next couple of days, Vivian can't help but wonder if there really was a misunderstanding.

Oh, well.

Back to work.

*

Everyone's too busy for book club, which would normally be slightly disappointing for Diane, but, honestly, it's kind a relief.

She knows Vivian didn't mean anything by it, but that strangely intimate touch sent her into a bit of a tailspin that still hasn't exactly stopped.

For one thing, it reminded her of Harry, which still feels like getting the wind knocked out of her, even after all this time.

For another, it was _electric_.

And that's weird, right?

She's a little worried that if she sees Vivian again, without anyone else around as a buffer, she'll just blurt it out.

Better to stay home where it's safe. She really doesn't mind being alone.

But she does kind of miss their little friend dates; it had been nice to have someone to talk to for a while. Besides herself.

Which doesn't entirely explain how she ends up at Vivian's door.

"Forget to pay your phone bill?" Vivian says by way of greeting, leaning against her door. Diane is tempted to spin on her heel and power-walk in the opposite direction.

Instead she says, "Sorry I've been, well, a little hard to reach. Can we talk now?"

It's not until she's sitting across from Vivian that she realizes she has no idea how to explain her behavior; she hasn't even come up with a cover story, and Vivian's not tipsy enough for the truth.

She swallows hard and says, "I don't exactly know how to say this."

"I thought we were having fun," Vivian says.

"We were! I really liked, you know, going out. It was nice to spend time with you."

"So why does it sound like you came here to break up with me?"

Diane takes a deep breath and resists the urge to look away. "Well, it's about that last night, you know, after dinner? When you--"

"Is _that_ why you've been so weird? Did you think I was making a move on you?"

"No, of course not," she manages to say. "I wasn't _upset_ or anything, it's just that I--"

"It was nothing. I can't believe we're even talking about it, for God's sake.

"That's what I'm trying to say, that it _wasn't_ nothing, that I--"

"Honestly," Vivian says, "I'm surprised at you, I thought you were an uber liberal, anyway, despite your uptight"--she waves her hand in Diane's general direction--"demeanor."

Diane shakes her head. "You're not getting it. Never mind, I don't know what I was trying to say," she says, getting up and heading for the door. "You're right, it was nothing. See you around."

Vivian catches up with her and grabs her wrist, and the touch and sudden proximity stop her in her tracks. "If I'm not getting it, explain it to me."

The words fail her.

"Or don't," Vivian says, sounding tired. She drops her hand.

Diane's heart is hammering in her chest--her doctor wouldn't approve--when she leans forward, just enough, and kisses Vivian.

It's pretty chaste and closed-mouthed, like playing spin the bottle with a boy you don't like, but she hasn't kissed a girl since her last slumber party.

Vivian doesn't kiss her back. She doesn't pull away, either.

"How's that for an explanation?" Diane laughs. "Pretty weird, right? Anyway, good night."

"Oh, no," Vivian says. "You don't get to run off and stop taking my calls again."

"I don't?"

Vivian closes the remaining distance between them and presses her lips against Diane's, kissing her properly this time. _Electric_ , she thinks. "If you came here to break up with me, you're doing a terrible job."

"Oh, well," Diane says. "I guess it can wait."

*

At breakfast, Diane looks stricken, and Vivian prepares for the worst: this was a mistake, I was out of my mind, no offense but I'm not like that.

But Diane just says, "What are we going to tell everyone?"

"To stay out of our business, probably," she says, picking at her fruit.

"Sounds like a plan."

Vivian would never admit to the relief that surges through her when it becomes clear that Diane is not, in fact, having a postmortem panic attack. Instead she says, "How about a movie tonight?"

"You mean like a date?"

She thinks about it. "No."

Diane's face falls.

"Not _like_ a date. A date. Let's go there. Why not?"

"Why not," Diane agrees. "So long as you don't expect me to put out just because you're paying."

"Did I say I was paying?"

"Then I'll pay." She grins. "But I have _very_ high expectations."

"You've got yourself a deal," Vivian says.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Kate Wolf song.
> 
> Thanks for the prompt!


End file.
